


Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

by Pixiealamode



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 02:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixiealamode/pseuds/Pixiealamode
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean finds himself in need of a little help in the form of a friendly green bud.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Stoned](https://archiveofourown.org/works/313199) by [cadignan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadignan/pseuds/cadignan). 



> Please note that smoking pot is illegal in many states I do not condone the smoking of illegal substances. Thank you have a very nice day and don't do anything stupid/get caught.

Dean justified his secret pot smoking by only doing it on extra bad days. When the world was literally crawling with demons or when his brother was thrown into a pit with Satan those were the days to smoke. He knew it was probably a bad thing to do. Chemical dependency and all that. But he figured the whisky he drank daily did more harm then the small amount of weed he smoked.  
Today was a particulary bad day. His back ached like it was on fire. His knees made cracking noises when he walked. He wasn't getting any younger which made the amount of abuse his body suffered feel ten times worse then five years ago.  
The Hunter unpacked his small stash from the glove compartment. He skillfully rolled a joint with his swift fingers. He licked the strawberry flavored paper to seal the whole thing. When he put the doobie to his lips and inhaled he felt the whole world lift off his shoulders. He drank to cope with his life, he smoked to forget it sometimes.  
He was glad Sam had fallen asleep quickly that night. Sammy was exhausted from the all night salt and burn fest. They had destroyed an entire nest of ghosts who haunted an apartment complex that was built over their orphanage. The ghost children had all been brutally murdered by their head master. They weren't bad kids, but after an era of haunting they had become feral.Dean hated burning the bones of children. He felt sick whenever he dosed the tiny bones with gasoline and salt. He felt better once the bones were blazing, he hoped they were at peace.  
The weed went straight to his head. His body sagged, his shoulders slumped and the heavy metal he was blaring sounded like angels. Seedy motel parking lots were the perfect place to do illegal substances. The smoke was collected in the car so everything he saw was through a haze. The sudden noise of a thousand wings whispered over the music when Castiel appeared.  
“Dean?” The Angel looked a bit lost. The car smelled like pine needles and skunk, Dean looked blissful. “Dean why are you acting like this? It is very peculiar.”  
“You know that peace you get when you're asleep or dead?” Dean gave the angel a lopsided grin as he held up the joint.  
“Uh...no I can't say I do.”  
“Let's pretend you do Cas. Let's say that this right here makes all that bad shit go away. It's friggan nice dude.” He handed the multi-wave length being the joint. He looked perplexed by the object that sat between his fingers. He brought it up to his face but did not take a hit.  
“Am I just suppose to smell it? I don't understand what you want me to do Dean.” Castiel's voice was completely deadpan which made Dean want to laugh. He let out a giggle. It was a happy laugh. One of the rare ones he usually shared with Sam when they were thirteen hours out on a hunt with only three coffees. He liked those small moments. Castiel said his name again with a hint of concern. He pushed himself beyond the memories.  
“Okay Cas here's what you do; purse your lips.Then you put the joint to your lips. Great now suck on the paper without actually sucking. Like you're drinking from a straw.”  
Castiel the holy tax accountant took a small hit from the joint. He pursed his lips in a comical fashion and inhaled. Dean laughed as Cas choked on the white smoke pouring out of his mouth. It coiled around his head like a halo. Dean nearly laughed himself to death he practically shaking the car. The angel could drink an entire grocery stores worth of booze without feeling a thing. Marajuana appeared to be a completely different story. The angel blinked slowly and with a hazy smile was completely out of his gourd.  
"You are fricken' hilarious Cas. Wanna get some tacos? I'm craving tacos."  
"Dean you know I do not need to eat...well actually a taco sounds really good right now." And the duo road off into the night to gather some late night meals for their munchie attack.


End file.
